


Sleeping Over

by thecutestprince



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:51:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4497753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecutestprince/pseuds/thecutestprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Of course now, of all times, Koujaku would get a boner. He hadn’t even noticed that he was so turned on, and from admiring Aoba, of all things. He refused to believe it was Aoba who caused his arousal, though. No fucking way in hell. Koujaku pushed that thought as far away as he could. Instead, he focused at the situation at hand, which was the erection in his pants."</p>
<p>We all know Koujaku admires Aoba whilst he sleeps. We all know he sometimes sleeps over. And we all know that, sometimes, people cum into things they shouldn't cum into. This is a tale which intertwines these sentences into one awful occurrence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Over

“Are you spending the night?”

The rich smell of donuts filled the room. Their glasses were half-full with sweet iced tea, and the tips of their fingers were coated in sugar from the sweets. Just seconds ago, their chests were rising up and down with laughter, and smiles reminiscent of such laughter hung on their lips. The sun had already set; they were too busy enjoying each other’s company to notice the sky’s transition from clear blue to jet black. It was a perfect Friday night.

Why would he ever want to leave?

“Sure,” Koujaku responded, his smile widening.

“Stop freeloading,” Aoba joked as he reached for another donut. “What makes you think you can- OW!”

Aoba retracted his hand, now stinging from a firm slap of Tae’s spatula.

“That’s enough! Leave some for breakfast. Now, help clean up, then it’s off to bed. No staying up and being loud and annoying,” she retorted.

The three were able to get the kitchen clean in no time; they’d worked together hundreds of times, and they sunk into their usual routine without skipping a beat. Once the kitchen was spotless, Aoba and Koujaku retreated to Aoba’s room, where they settled in for the night. Aoba was always selfless enough to force Koujaku to take his bed each time he slept over. Aoba slept in a sleeping bag on the floor, with Ren curled at his feet.

“I’m turning off the lights,” Aoba announced.

“Sounds good.”

Aoba turned off the lights, then laid on top of his sleeping bag. He turned his body to face Koujaku, and Koujaku did the same.

“I’m surprised you want me sleeping in your bed, since you think I’m a free-loader,” Koujaku said. There was no need to whisper, yet he found his voice softer now than when the lights were on.

“Shut up,” Aoba said. His eyes were starting to droop as he stifled a yawn.

“Are you seriously tired already?”

“Hey, you know those donuts make me sleepy,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.

Koujaku reached out to shake Aoba’s shoulder. “Aoba, don’t be lame. It isn’t even one yet, don’t fall asleep.”

“Fine, fine,” Aoba groaned, slapping his hand away. “I won’t.”

He was out in five minutes.

Koujaku laid on his back and sighed. Having eaten so many sweets, it would not be so easy for him to fall asleep. He tried fooling himself for a couple of minutes, closing his eyes tightly, but to no avail. He tossed and turned before settling into his initial position: facing Aoba, with his back to the wall.

How Aoba could fall into such a peaceful sleep so quickly was beyond Koujaku. Aoba was now only soft features and silent breathing. His blue hair, free from that horrid ponytail, fell messily across his cheeks. The light peeking in from the window fell on him enough to illuminate the curve of his hips, his slender legs, and the bit of skin exposed from his tank top bunching up. One hand rested lazily at his side, the other against his pillow, almost covering his half open mouth. Oh, the curve of his lips-

‘Ah, _fuck_.’

Of course. Of course now, of all times, Koujaku would get a boner. He hadn’t even noticed that he was so turned on, and from admiring Aoba, of all things. He refused to believe it was Aoba who caused his arousal, though. No fucking way in hell. Koujaku pushed that thought as far away as he could. Instead, he focused at the situation at hand, which was the erection in his pants.

Should he get up, take care of this business elsewhere? The bathroom wasn’t too far away. Or, should he give in to the laziness weighing him down, and just jack off right there, laying down next to his best friend. Well, one _could_ argue that they weren’t exactly right next to each other. Sure, he could reach out and touch him, but it wasn’t like Koujaku could feel Aoba’s breath against his skin.

And the thought of it, of feeling Aoba’s breath against his skin. Such a simple idea sent shivers down his spine.

‘God dammit.’

Heat rushed up to his cheeks as he focused on Aoba again. His hand slithered down his body, past the waist band of his sweatpants and boxers, and to his dick. He tried not to think about it. If he got too embarrassed, it wouldn’t feel good.

His eyes again went to Aoba’s half-parted lips. Koujaku always noticed how feminine Aoba’s features were, especially his lips. When he smiled, when he laughed, when he took a sip of a drink, Koujaku couldn’t help but think of the girls he’d kissed, how their lips felt against his. And then he’d somehow replace those girls with Aoba, and suddenly it was Aoba kissing him, Aoba pressing his body against his, Aoba snaking his hands under his clothes. It was Aoba’s lips that were pressing against his skin, Aoba’s lips wrapped around his-

He moaned softly. His hips jolted forward, dick throbbing in his hand, and another slightly louder moan escaped him.

“Aoba-“

He quickly covered his mouth, half-lidded eyes now widened.

Aoba was still asleep. Thankfully, he hadn't even stirred.

Koujaku’s heart as beating rapidly. ‘He could’ve woken up,’ he thought to himself, biting down softly on the side of his index finger. He promised he would make more of an effort to keep quiet as he began to work his hand faster.

His hand went from moving rhythmically to moving sloppily and hastily. He bit down hard against the side of his finger, trying not to make any noise. But then his hips kept bucking at random moments, and he was panting against his hand. He slid two fingers in his mouth, licking and sucking them, though he imagined he was sucking on something else. The pleasure was pooling at his abdomen, suddenly unbearable, and he knew he was going to come at any second.

He didn’t want to come in his pants, or on himself, for the risk of getting anything on the bed. There weren’t any tissues in sight. He could use a sock, but he wasn’t wearing any.

Then he noticed that Aoba _was_.

Guilt made his stomach drop a little, but it would have to do. Besides, they were those yellow socks he hated. He wouldn’t mind soiling them.

Koujaku stopped his hand and took a few deep breaths. After he calmed down a bit, he sat up and reached forward, fingers barely grasping at the edge of Aoba’s sock. He slowly, very slowly, pulled Aoba’s sock from his foot. It was almost off, and then-

And then Aoba moaned. It was one of those breathy, sleepy sighs you let out after you stretch. Aoba moaned, and it was all history.

Koujaku threw caution to the wind. He quickly pulled off Aoba’s sock, otherwise he probably would have came on Aoba’s leg.

Instead, he came in Aoba’s sock. To him, that was just as bad.

Once he was done wallowing in his usual after-masturbation-depression, he got up and headed to the bathroom. He disposed of the sock, wrapping it in toilet paper to camouflage it. As he was washing his hands, he brought his head up to look at his reflection.

He was so _very_ tired.

 

The next morning, Koujaku was awakened by a smack on the arm. He opened his eyes, the world blurred with sleep. Once his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the morning, his eyes fell on Aoba. He was still sprawled across the floor, one arm up his shirt, scratching at his stomach. The waistband to his boxers was exposed, as well as an inch of fair skin. The sight had Koujaku's mind wandering again. Just as he covered his blushing face with his arm, Aoba peered up at him and smiled.

“Mornin’,” he greeted him.

“Morning.”

“Ahh!” Aoba stretched his arms and legs and let out a loud groan. The sound reminded Koujaku of the night before, and he felt his cheeks heat up even more.

Aoba sat up with his legs in front of him. “Huh,” he mumbled, staring at his right foot. “I’m missing a sock.”

Koujaku’s head nearly exploded.


End file.
